Maggie Lee (Book 10): The Hitwoman's Act of Contrition

by JB Lynn

  “No. That’s okay.” I bent and picked up the wrench.

  When he still didn’t move, I glanced up at him. He bit his lower lip, considering me.

  “But thanks anyway for the offer,” I added, hoping that would get him to move along. “I’ve got this.”

  “Like you had the tire?”

  “That was just a poor execution of my plan,” I bluffed.

  He raised his eyebrows. “You planned on getting a flat tire?”

  I shook my head. “I plan on changing it.”

  “By all means.” He waved his hand, indicating I should go ahead, but instead of moving away, he leaned back against my car to watch the show.

  Chapter 10

  Tightening my grip on the wrench, I crouched down and lined it up with a lug nut.

  “Most people don’t have real jacks in their car anymore,” my rescuer mentioned conversationally.

  I turned the wrench but nothing happened.

  My audience continued talking. “They have these pump things. Seal the leak, let the pump do its job, and you’re done in ten minutes.”

  I turned the wrench harder. Still nothing.

  “Then again,” the annoying man continued, “most people keep doughnut tires as their spare, not a full-size one like you’ve got. They fit in the trunk better.”

  I leaned all of my body weight into the wrench, but it didn’t budge. Defeated, I sank to my knees and glared at the obstinate piece of metal.

  “Are you one of those women who can’t or won’t accept the help of a man?”

  “No.” I lined the wrench up with a different lug nut.

  “You sure about that?” His pointed tone made it clear that my actions belied my words.

  “I just like being self-sufficient,” I muttered, trying to turn the wrench to no avail.

  “I can appreciate that. Nothing wrong with a strong, independent woman who knows her mind.”

  I tried the body weight trick, but that didn’t work.

  “Nothing wrong with accepting help, either,” he continued matter-of-factly.

  I gave up my struggle and put the wrench down on the ground beside me. “But I don’t know you.”

  Pushing off the car, he stepped toward me, his hand outstretched. “I’m Angel.”

  The devilish glint in his eye seemed at odds with his introduction and I eyed his offered hand.

  “And you are?” he prompted.

  “Maggie,” I said grudgingly, slipping my hand into his.

  His handshake was quick and firm. “Nice to meet you, Maggie. Can I help you change your tire?”

  As he spoke, he pulled me to my feet. The moment I was standing, he released me.

  “I’d appreciate the help, but I don’t know that you’ll do any better than I did.”

  He laughed, a cocky sound that sent ripples of awareness through me.

  Brushing past me, he placed it under the car and began pumping the mechanism to raise the vehicle.

  “I can do that,” I offered.

  He looked up and winked at me. “I’ve got this.”

  Amused that he’d thrown my words back at me, I grinned, raised my hands in surrender, and took a step back to let him work.

  “You should get one of those kits.”

  “What kits?”

  “The ones for a flat tire. You wouldn’t have had to wrestle with these things.”

  His rippling muscles made short work of lifting the car. Grabbing the wrench, he attacked the first lug nut I had. He gave the wrench a hard twist and then smiled up at me victoriously. “That wasn’t so hard.”

  I found myself smiling back, though I wasn’t sure if it was because I was relieved the tire could be changed or because his grin was infectious.

  “How’d you end up with a shirt full of gelatin?” he asked as he lazily spun the wrench.

  “I’m a messy eater,” I quipped. It was easier than admitting that my own mother had thrown it at me.

  He sighed. “You could just say you don’t want to talk about it.” He removed a lug nut and started on another.

  I opened my mouth to apologize, but before I got the chance, he asked, “You always keep so much stuff in your trunk?” He waved his hand in the direction of my junk spread out in the next parking space.

  “I like to be prepared.” I plucked at my sticky shirt, holding it away from my body, hoping it wouldn’t dry and stick to my skin.

  “For the Apocalypse?” he joked.

  “In the event of an emergency,” I countered. “Like a flat tire. I have the tools and a tire. I just should have gotten to the gym and built some muscles in preparation.”

  He looked up from his work, allowing his eyes to leisurely roam over me. “You don’t go to the gym?”

  “No time,” I muttered apologetically, figuring that a man who looked like him probably lived at the gym.

  “Ahh,” he murmured, “the excuse of the modern world.”

  “Some of us have responsibilities,” I snapped.

  He cocked his head and rubbed his thumb across his chin before responding. His voice, when he finally did speak, was pitched so low I could barely hear him. “What kind of responsibilities do you have, Maggie?”

  I tensed, not wanting to discuss my business with a stranger. I looked away, but could feel his gaze lingering on me.

  “The kind that covers you with cherry gelatin?” he pushed.

  I tilted my chin defiantly, signaling I wouldn’t be continuing the conversation.

  I snuck a glance in his direction, guessing from the clanking metal-against-metal sound that he’d returned his attention back to the car, spinning the wrench faster than before.

  He tossed the damaged tire away and stood up. He met my gaze steadily.

  “I didn’t mean to imply that you don’t have anything to do besides work out,” I apologized.

  “Yes you did.”

  “Well I shouldn’t have said it.”

  He shrugged. “I made the crack about excuses first.” He bent to pick up the spare tire.

  “It wasn’t totally unjustified,” I admitted. “Back before I had so much on my mind, I used to say I didn’t have time to work out and that was just an excuse. Now I get my workout when my dog walks me.”

  He grinned, whether at my admission or joke, I wasn’t sure. “What kind of dog do you have?” Squatting down, he put the spare tire on the car.

  “A Doberman pinscher.”

  He glanced at me as he grabbed the lug nuts and wrench. “Wouldn’t have figured you for that kind of dog.”

  Relieved that the tension between us was gone, I played along. “What would you imagine me having?”

  “I’d have figured you for an unknown breed shelter mutt.”

  “She is rescued.” I neglected to mention that I’d rescued her from her former owner, a nasty assassin who went by the name Gary the Gun.

  “That I believe.” Tightening the last of the lug nuts, he stood up. “There you go. As good as new.” He picked up the damaged tire and tossed it into the trunk effortlessly.

  “I feel like I should do something to thank you.”

  “No need.”

  I frowned as he maneuvered the tire into its well along with the tools.

  “What?” he asked, without bothering to look at me.

  “I’m not in the habit of taking handouts.”

  He shook his head. “Maybe you need to practice accepting favors.”

  “But—” I protested.

  He sighed. “Just pay it forward.”

  “How?”

  “When the opportunity presents itself, you’ll know.” He picked up the case of water and slid it into the trunk.

  “You don’t have to do that.” I rushed forward and grabbed some of my spare clothes and thrust them into the car.

  “You want to change?”

  “What?”

  “Your shirt. You might scare your husband or whoever going home to with a giant red stain on your chest.”

  “Not marrie
d,” I replied automatically. “But you’re right, my aunts might freak out.”

  He grinned and I realized he’d been fishing for that nugget of information.

  “You live with your aunts?” he teased.

  I scowled, but remained silent. It wasn’t like I was going to confide that my apartment had been blown up.

  “Seriously though…” He gestured toward my chest. “You really should change out of that.”

  I knew he was right, but I really didn’t want to go back into the building to do it.

  As though he knew the source of my hesitation he offered. “Do it here. I’ll stand guard.”

  I shook my head.

  “There’s nothing but woods in that direction. Face that way. If you stand between me and the car, no one will see you.”

  I took in his muscular frame and had to admit that he would be a good human shield. Still, I shook my head.

  “I’ll keep my back turned and my eyes shut,” he promised.

  I grabbed a clean shirt out of the car. “You promise not to look?”

  “Scout’s honor.”

  I motioned for him to turn around.

  He did, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Your eyes are closed?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Spinning so my back was to him, I quickly peeled off the sticky shirt and dropped it on the ground. “My mother threw it at me,” I muttered.

  “Excuse me?”

  “My mother threw the gelatin at me.” I pulled the fresh shirt down over my head.

  “Does she do that often?”

  Jamming my arms through the sleeves, I considered his question. “Not in quite a while, actually. She won’t even remember it the next time I see her.”

  “Must make it hard.”

  “What?”

  “The whole forgive and forget thing.”

  I glanced at God on the dashboard of my car to see if he was listening to the conversation, but he seemed oblivious as he soaked up some rays.

  I bent to pick up the box of emergency food from the ground. “You can open your eyes now.”

  Angel turned around slowly. He smiled his approval. “Much better.”

  “Thanks.” I moved past him to put the box into the car.

  He peeked inside. “You carry olives as emergency rations.”

  “I love olives. Don’t you?”

  A strange expression crossed his face and he seemed to tense up. Instead of answering me, he bent over to retrieve more of my stuff from the ground.

  I stowed the food away, and when I turned back toward him, he was holding my book, reading the title.

  I fought the urge to snatch it out of his hands.

  “A Home for Healing,” he read aloud. “Giving an Orphan a Place to Grow.” He looked at me questioningly.

  I swallowed hard. No one knew I was reading that book. Not even God.

  “It’s none of my business,” Angel murmured, closing the distance between us and pressing the book into my hands. “I apologize.”

  “No problem,” I choked out.

  The semblance of a sad smile played at the corners of his mouth. “If there’s nothing else you need, I’m going to go.”

  “Of course. Thank you again. If there’s anything I can do to repay you…”

  “There’s one thing.”

  I waited tensely.

  “I’ve been out of town for a long time. A lot of places closed. Where’s the best place to get a pizza around here.”

  I relaxed at the simple request. “Do you know Tony’s on Seventh?’

  He winced. “Not a fan of the atmosphere.”

  “DiNapoli by the old roller rink. Do you know where that is?”

  He nodded. “Thanks, Maggie.”

  He extended his hand.

  I shifted the book to my left hand so that I could shake. “Thank y-you, Angel.” I stuttered slightly, caught off guard by the tingling sensation that erupted the moment our palms met.

  I could tell he felt it too from the way he dropped me like a hot potato.

  An expression that looked a lot like regret passed over his face. “Too bad we didn’t meet at a better time.” With that he turned and walked away, out of my life.

  I watched him go and found myself regretting that I’d never see him again.

  Chapter 11

  When I’d finished reloading the trunk, I headed back to the B&B to grab something to eat and put the lizard back into his terrarium.

  I didn’t even get to the basement before Aunt Leslie cornered me in the kitchen.

  “I’ve found it,” she trilled triumphantly.

  “Found what?” I poured myself some room-temperature coffee into a large glass.

  “The perfect way to soothe your spirit.”

  “Oh yeah.” I rummaged in the fridge, looking for something to munch on.

  “Yes. It’s perfect. The timing’s perfect. It’s meant to be,” Leslie gushed.

  I ended up with cheese and grapes. I closed the fridge and popped a piece of fruit into my mouth. “What is?”

  “A spiritual retreat.”

  I almost choked on the grape.

  “It’ll soothe your mind, stretch your body, and rejuvenate your spirit,” Leslie recited as though she was reading copy from a brochure.

  “I don’t think—” I began to protest.

  “There’s chanting and yoga and sharing and contemplation. Doesn’t it sound wonderful?”

  She looked so happy and hopeful that I managed to prevent myself from saying that it sounded like hell on earth.

  Barely.

  “I’m not sure—”

  “Best of all,” she interrupted, “it’s nearby, so there’s no travel involved. You can start tomorrow, so the timing’s perfect. You can be rested and refreshed when Katie comes home.”

  I shoved a big piece of cheddar cheese into my mouth to buy myself a moment to come up with a response that wouldn’t offend Leslie. She’d also taken her duties of taking care of my spiritual well-being seriously and she seemed genuinely excited about her “solution” even though I’d have rather had a tooth extracted without Novocain than chant with a bunch of yoga-istas.

  “The grounds are beautiful,” she gushed. “Gardens and wildlife. Peace and tranquility. And it’s like you’re tucked into your own quiet corner of the world since it’s tucked into the Krout Estate.”

  This time I almost choked on my cheese. After spluttering for a few seconds, I asked, “The Krout Estate?”

  “The Krout family. Old money. Power. Influence.”

  “I know who they are.” I was more focused on the location since it was where Wayne Krout was hiding out.

  “The land has been in their family for generations. They even have their own orchard.”

  My mind whirled. If I decided to take Delveccio’s offer to get rid of Wayne Krout, this crazy retreat of Leslie’s would be the perfect place to launch the attack from.

  “So what do you think?” Leslie asked.

  I took a sip of my coffee while I composed my answer. “It sounds great.”

  Leslie’s face lit up with a pleased smile.

  “But can I think about it for a couple of hours?” I added hurriedly. If I couldn’t come up with a plan to get to Krout, I wasn’t going to submit myself to yoga and chanting.

  Leslie’s smile drooped a little, but she agreed gamely. “Of course. Let me know what you decide.” She thrust a piece of paper into my hand and hurried out of the kitchen.

  I carefully carried the paper, coffee, cheese, and grapes down the stairs into the basement.

  I’d reached the bottom when it occurred to me that DeeDee wasn’t beside me panting “Gotta! Gotta!”

  “Everything okay?” I called out, suddenly worried.

  “Everything’s just fine, Sugar,” Piss purred contentedly.

  I looked in the direction her voice was coming from and found Patrick sitting on the couch, watching me. The cat was on one side of him, the dog on the othe
r.

  It was a good thing I was at the bottom of the stairs or I might have taken a tumble, I was so shocked by his presence.

  “Hey, Mags,” he said quietly, amusement dancing in his gaze.

  “Maggie, hi,” DeeDee panted.

  I hurried over to them. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see you,” Patrick replied calmly.

  “Why? Is there something wrong?”

  He shook his head.

  “But it’s daylight.”

  He grinned. “Were you thinking I was vampire all this time?”

  “I think you’re asking to get caught if you try sneaking in and out of here during the day.” I offered him some cheese and grapes. “This is a busy place.”

  He took a piece of cheese and immediately fed it to the dog. She scarfed it up as though she hadn’t eaten in days. He took a couple of grapes and DeeDee looked at him hopefully.

  “No grapes for you. They make dogs sick,” he told her. He looked up at me. “Did you know that?”

  “They can’t digest the skins.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I looked up everything that was toxic for dogs when she moved in.”

  “This conversation is toxic to my brain,” God complained from my chest.

  I jumped, startled. He’d been so quiet I’d forgotten I was still carrying him around.

  Patrick just shook his head at the squeaking sound.

  I held up a finger. “One sec.” Putting down the food and paper, I hurried over to the lizard’s terrarium, reached down my shirt, and carefully placed him into the enclosure. “Warm enough?” I whispered.

  “Let there be light,” he commanded.

  So I turned on the terrarium’s overhead lamp before rejoining Patrick. The animals were splayed out on either side of him, which meant there was no room on the sofa for me. I walked past him toward an empty chair, but he caught my hand.

  I glanced down at him questioningly.

  He tugged, knocking me off balance and pulling me into his lap. Wrapping his arms around me, he squeezed. Enveloped in his comforting embrace, some of my tension seeped away. Covering his arm with my own, I snuggled closer, enjoying his warmth.

  We sat like that for a few minutes, not speaking, just enjoying being in one another’s arms. Finally, he raised a hand and gently cupped my chin. I tilted my head back to welcome his kiss, but was surprised when his fingers hovered over my cheek.